Keep the Light Alive (part 1 of 2)
by Celli
Summary: A Witchblade/Mummy crossover: Elizabeth Bronte and Alex O'Connell in WWII Berlin.


Light

Keep the Light Alive  
Part 1 of 2  
a Witchblade/Mummy crossover  
by Celli Lane

Part 2 can be found [here][1], under the Mummy category. I couldn't figure out which category the story belonged in, so I split the difference.

Disclaimer: Offhand, I can't remember who everyone belongs to, but suffice it to say it's not me. I promise I'm not making any money off this.

Author's Notes: I blame 90% of this story on Cath, who got me hooked on Witchblade, and the other 10% on Val, who made a completely unrelated comment about Alex that got me going. The song is from the Lowen & Navarro album "Pendulum."

If you're not familiar with Witchblade, try [http://www.witchbladetv.com][2] or [The Witchblade Fan Page][3].  
For the Mummy movies, try [http://www.themummy.com][4] or [Secrets of The Mummy][5].

Thanks to my beta-readers: Jen and the Horsechicks (KikiPerriValDeeCath'n'Lizbet), who tried really hard even though few of them were familiar with both fandoms. And a last-minute thank-you to my brother Brian, who listened politely when I got stuck. Feedback is welcome--email me if you don't want anyone to see your real opinion. :)

__________________________________________________________________________________________

_These are the times that try the strongest souls...  
--"Keep the Light Alive," Lowen & Navarro_

  
Berlin, Germany  
August 1944  
  
"No, wait, please! Who created the Witchblade? Where did it come from?"  
  
Elizabeth Bronte, SS Mistress, American spy--and Witchblade  
wielder--fingered the bracelet at her wrist. She understood, as Sara  
Pezzini might not, the meaning beneath her question. _What is the  
Witchblade's purpose? Does it want to help humankind, or some of it at  
least? And will it destroy me, if necessary, to accomplish its purpose?_  
  
"It is a branch ripped from the Tree of the Knowledge...of Good _and_ Evil,"  
she answered finally, hoping her "future" self could understand. Sara  
looked as though she might realize some layers of Elizabeth's meaning.  
Perhaps in time--  
  
Elizabeth laughed softly as she exited the room and returned to her own  
"reality." With all the time--all the lifetimes--in the world, Sara might  
never truly understand that the Witchblade never limited itself to the human  
definitions of good, evil, right, wrong...Without turning, Elizabeth saw in  
her mind's eye the bed she'd left behind, and the man asleep in it. "Nor  
sin," she whispered to herself. "Nor salvation."  
  
She had automatically walked along a section of soldiers' housing--rough  
barracks not far from the posh surroundings her Lieutenant had acquired for  
her. Engrossed in her own thoughts, she gave a startled squeak when someone  
grabbed her by her arm and pulled her into one of the doorways.  
  
It goes without saying that the man started kissing her as soon as they  
disappeared from view.  
  
"You know," she said breathlessly after a few moments, "we're spies,  
O'Connell. Aren't we supposed to have passcodes and such?"  
  
He grinned down at her. "You don't think I can recognize you this way,  
Lizzie?"  
  
"It's definitely...unique."  
  
A cranky German voice came from the other side of the door, and Elizabeth  
ducked away into the small bedroom. She laughed at the clever, but very  
rude, response.  
  
"Alex! Even I am not supposed to know what that phrase means."  
  
He followed her in, reverting to that plummy British accent that came  
naturally to him. "_Do_ you know what it means?"  
  
"It means your roommates aren't likely to bother us for quite a while."  
  
He really was beautiful when he laughed, even with the too-short haircut and  
too-short uniform pants of the German private he was supposed to be. He had  
the most incredible blue eys, and those dimples...well, even an "American  
Mata Hari" could be forgiven for succumbing, just a little, to those  
dimples.  
  
He saw the look in her eyes and moved closer to the bed, but she held a hand  
up. "Alex..."  
  
"Lizzie..." he nearly whined.  
  
"Alexander Carnahan O'Connell."  
  
"Oh, now you've done it," he said glumly. "That sounded exactly like my  
mother at her most annoyed."  
  
"And I'm sure you gave her just cause."  
  
"Lizzie, are you going to pester me about my youthful indiscretions again?"  
  
She held up a handful of documents. "Code work first." She leaned closer.  
"Then, if you're very lucky, we'll work on some not-so-youthful  
indiscretions."  
  
"Well then." He snatched the papers from her. "Why didn't you say so in  
the first place?"  
  
~~~~  
  
A half hour later, Alex was mumbling to himself in a corner. Elizabeth  
tuned him out--from long experience--and concentrated on one particular  
document. The Witchblade felt warm on her wrist, and she rubbed it absently  
as she read.  
  
"Lizzie?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Your arm is glowing."  
  
"Excuse me?" Startled, she looked down at her right wrist. The gem in the  
Witchblade was indeed glowing. "It, ah...it doesn't usually do that."  
  
He lifted an eyebrow at her. "In public, you mean."  
  
"What? Alex--?"  
  
"Oh, come on. Did you think I hadn't noticed that you're wearing the  
_Digitabulum Magi_ on your wrist?"  
  
Her brain refused to kick in. "You know your history," she said finally.  
  
"I know my treasure. Hitler filched it from the Vatican five years ago--"  
  
"Filched?"  
  
"--so you must've gotten it from Germer."  
  
She stiffened at Rolf's name. Ever since they'd...met, both of them took  
care not to mention the man who was her main assignment in Berlin. "So?"  
  
"So, you are going to return it to the Vatican when you leave here, right?"  
  
"Look, Alex..." What was she supposed to say? Sorry, Mr. O'Connell, but I  
have a blood right to it, even if it is a centuries-old antiquity? "It's  
not that simple."  
  
"Of course it is. It's just a stupid bracelet." He caught himself, and  
rubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. "Although I've been wrong about  
that before..."  
  
"It won't come off."  
  
Something in her voice must have actually penetrated the absurdity of it  
all. He looked as though he might actually believe her. "What do you mean,  
it won't come off?"  
  
She turned her wrist over to show the lines of scar tissue, where the  
Witchblade had embedded itself in her skin. "If I'm fortunate...it will  
stay on my wrist until I die."  
  
"Lizzie. Elizabeth."  
  
"Alex." She tugged on his shoulders until he looked from the Witchblade to  
her eyes. "There's things I can't tell you...there's things I don't want to  
tell you. It's been a rather difficult day, and I'm not ready for another  
argument on right and wrong."  
  
He cupped her face in his hands, and for the first time she saw the same  
knowledge in his eyes that she'd held all along--that even if they won, even  
if their efforts were successful, nothing would ever be "right" after all  
this was over. She couldn't be normal for him, even if she wanted to.  
  
"Lizzie. Tell me what to do?"  
  
"Just...be with me, Alex. If you can."  
  
Those dimples made an amazing reappearance. "Oh, I can definitely do that,  
love."  
  
The Witchblade stayed warm on her wrist as she embraced him.

_If the candle that you're holding has grown a bit too dim  
Then let me stand beside you 'til the sun pours in..._

...continued in [Part 2][1]  


   [1]: http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?action=story-read&storyid=414773
   [2]: http://www.witchbladetv.com
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/karenbd20/Witchblade.html
   [4]: http://www.themummy.com
   [5]: http://www.joshanddawn.com/themummy/



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